Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Retreat
Qingshan County East Market, Ink Studio.
The Ink Studio mainly sold brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and also printed books.
Chen Mu was sitting at the entrance of Ink Studio, on the east side.
A table was placed before him, fully equipped with brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone.
There was also a piece of white paper hanging in front of the table, on which two figures were drawn: one was himself, writing with a brush, and the other was a passerby seen from the back.
Next to the drawing, there were eight elegant and flowing characters, "Letters written on behalf, portraits painted."
This was the place where his predecessor had written letters and drawn portraits.
The table, chairs, and stools all came from the Ink Studio behind him, including the very spot he occupied, for which he paid two copper coins in rent per day.
Chen Mu sat behind the desk, idly waiting for business to come his way.
In this era, productivity was low, and the standard of living, as well as education, was poor.
Poor families would at most have someone relay a verbal message; very few would have letters written.
After sitting idly for a day, he had written only three letters.
Writing letters, unlike calligraphy and selling words, could not be charged by the character. Within a single piece of letter paper, the charge was uniformly three copper coins.
"Three letters amount to nine copper coins."
"Two for Ink Studio, four set aside for rent savings, leaving only three. Barely enough for a day's meals, and that's the kind where you don't get full."
"Sigh..."
...
Four days later, in the evening, Chen Mu arrived near Anle Square to the north of East Market.
This area was Hook Lane Street, teeming with a great number of brothels and courtesan houses.
As night fell, this place became increasingly lively.
Chen Mu stood in the shadows at the corner of the street, watching an elder by the roadside.
The elder was dressed in a long robe, with a desk set up before him where he was currently engrossed in boldly executing his brushwork with ink.
He had been observing for two days; this old man was a painter, earning a living by painting portraits here.
The subjects of the portraits were mostly the Singers from the brothels along the street.
The exact amount he earned was unclear, but seeing that he was dressed neatly and dined out every day, it couldn't be too bad.
Stepping out of the corner, Chen Mu slowly approached the old man's desk, surveyed his paintings for a moment, and pretended to nod in approval.
The elder looked up, sized up Chen Mu for a moment, and let out a chuckle, "What, you want to sell paintings too?"
Chen Mu was taken aback; the old man had seen through his intentions.
As if knowing Chen Mu's confusion, the elder straightened his back and said with an indifferent smile, "You've been watching me for two days now, haven't you made up your mind yet?"
Chen Mu was startled, feeling exposed though he thought he had hidden his intentions well, he had been discovered long ago.
"Selling paintings is a dead end! Young man, take my advice, go back and study hard," the elder said with an enigmatic air.
"The waters in this profession are deep; you won't be able to handle them," the elder scoffed lightly.
Chen Mu looked puzzled; how deep could the waters be for selling a painting?
"I won't stop you, just fend for yourself," the elder said with a grin, bowing his head to continue painting without paying further attention.
...
Ping'an Square
Chen Mu didn't bother with eating, but plunged into the study on the east side, and started to paint a self-portrait using his reflection in a basin of water.
After finishing the painting, he compared it with his reflection in the mirror. The painting was anything but a likeness of himself, except in that it was self-made.
A gray wall appeared before his eyes.
Written on it: Calligraphy: 1035/10000/Second Rank;
Painting: 3061/10000/First Rank;
Chen Mu thought of the old painter on Hook Lane Street...
"Well, at least there's a lot of room for improvement."
Packing up his painting, Chen Mu left the study.
After dumping all his money onto the square table, Chen Mu counted it once more.
Two paths lay before him.
One was to live life following the original owner's trajectory, slowly saving wealth and looking for possible opportunities for change.
The other was to take a gamble, put all his money into retreat to practice painting, and after reaching a certain standard, go to Hook Lane Street to paint portraits for the Singers, earning more money, first to fill his stomach and then to try out more possibilities.
Whether it was the life of the previous owner or his past life, he would choose the first path. Because it seemed safer and more stable.
Not daring to step out of their comfort zone, not daring to face the unknown pressures, not daring to summon the courage to risk it all.
This is the general state of the common people.
Facts have proven that even seemingly prudent choices do not necessarily ensure stability.
Any slight accident in life can shatter this seemingly solid yet fragile peace.
"I've made it this far, what's there to worry about?" Chen Mu laughed: "Besides, I still have my wall painting proficiency."
He took his money and went out, buying white wheat to fill his rice jar to the brim.
Then he budgeted carefully, purchasing enough oil, salt, and firewood to last two months.
He meticulously organized the vegetable patch on the east side of his courtyard, planning the daily consumption to last as long as possible.
After preparing everything, he was left with only three copper coins.
But Chen Mu felt a sense of relief both in body and mind.
Once everything was ready, Chen Mu closed his doors and began to diligently practice his painting.
...
The painting skills of this era resembled the ancient splash-ink freehand style, prioritizing spirit over form.
The former occupant's father was an old scholar who made a living by teaching children.
The former occupant's painting skills were taught by his father.
Chen Mu did not plan to continue developing according to the previous occupant's techniques.
He had seen the paintings by an old man on Hook Lane Street, which were incredibly lifelike. Even with proficiency to aid him, Chen Mu was not confident that he could surpass him in a short time.
He planned to carve a different path.
In his previous life, he lived in an era of information overload and had seen numerous paintings.
Rather than freehand painting, Chen Mu planned to create meticulous, lifelike paintings, aiming for a level of realism comparable to a camera!
Picking up a sharpened stick, Chen Mu went to the side of his courtyard's vegetable patch.
There was a flat area about a meter in diameter, evenly covered with fine soil.
It was good enough for practicing writing with water, but not suitable for painting, so he decided to use the fine soil for practice, which could be reused.
Facing the reflection in the basin of water, Chen Mu used the sharpened stick to carefully outline his image, stroke by stroke.
It took a full half hour just to complete a self-portrait.
Chen Mu couldn't wait to call up the grey wall.
Writing: 1035/10000/Second Rank;
Painting: 3073/10000/First Rank;
"One portrait, twelve points of proficiency gained. Not bad..." Chen Mu let out a long sigh of relief.
Painting took much more time than practicing calligraphy. Fortunately, the experience gained was also greater.
Flattening the ground and sifting soil to cover it, Chen Mu continued to paint.
This time, however, he only gained nine points of proficiency.
While tidying the fine soil, Chen Mu thought about what he learned from the two painting sessions and began to paint again, intentionally trying to improve.
The proficiency indeed increased significantly, yielding thirteen points.
"It seems I need to be even more engaged!"
After each painting session, Chen Mu would take a brief rest, reflect on what he had learned, and even take notes with pen and paper.
Time passed slowly as he practiced, improved, and practiced again.
Chen Mu's painting skills were gradually improving as well.
...
One and a half months later, in the study.
Chen Mu, with disheveled hair and untamed beard, held a brush lightly in his hand, sketching on the white paper.
A beautiful, ethereal figure dressed in white took shape under his brush.
The beauty had jet-black long hair, a three-dimensional figure, eyes full of life, and even seemed to be alive.
Chen Mu put down his brush to take a look, then added a seven-character poem next to the portrait.
"Ten miles of flat lake frosted by the sky, inch by inch of black hair mourns the passing years."
"Single shadow facing the moon longs for the other, envying the mandarin ducks, not the immortals."
Writing: 1035/10000/Second Rank;
Painting: 72/10000/Second Rank;
"Done!"
Chapter 6: Chapter 6 Portraits
```
The skills depicted on the grey wall would undergo a qualitative change as soon as they reached the Second Rank.
Take calligraphy for example, just by looking at the structure of the characters, there is no obvious difference between the early Second Rank and the peak of the First Rank.
But if you look at an entire piece of writing, the characters of the Second Rank will have a special charm to them.
When I first copied scriptures for the Qingfeng Observatory, the later volumes clearly had an ethereal quality. Just by looking at the characters, one would feel that the Daoist Scripture was profound.
Similarly, once the painting ability entered the Second Rank, my mind would be filled with a lot more knowledge.
When painting faces, the general shapes of different faces would come to mind.
When painting eyes, the appearances of phoenix eyes, peach blossom eyes, triangular eyes, watery eyes, and all sorts of eyes would emerge in my thoughts.
As I sketched out the bridge of the nose, information on facial proportions and the distribution of features would flood in.
If someone described themselves well enough, I could paint a likeness of them that was seventy to eighty percent accurate without even seeing them in person.
Not only that, but I also had a thorough understanding of how to mix various pigments.
Insect-proofing, preserving, and even magical pigments with hidden color-changing properties had all become somewhat familiar to me.
After combing my hair, cleaning up my beard, and changing into clean clothes, I took my brushes, inks, paper, inkstones, and the painting that I had named Little Qian under my arm and headed straight for Anle Square.
My rice jar was nearly empty, and if I didn't start earning, I would have nothing to eat!
…
Anle Square, Ruyi Residence.
I found the manager and handed over my last three copper coins. I rented a table, chairs, a bench, and the courtyard space for a day.
Ruyi Residence was one of the top four restaurants in Anle Square.
It was known for its elegant vegetarian dishes, especially those for nourishing wellness and detoxifying.
Aside from the wealthy patrons, many courtesan singers also often ordered meals there.
The Singer's wouldn't show up in public casually, but they always had their own servants running errands.
Since I had no reputation, I wanted to quickly gain exposure. It was essential to let potential customers see my work as soon as possible.
I was targeting these Singer's servants.
As I was arranging the tables and chairs, a familiar figure of an elderly man leisurely walked into Ruyi Residence.
He only just entered when he backed out again, looking me over with a smile that was not quite a smile, "Young man, have you thought it through? Are you really going to sell your paintings here?"
This was the old painter I had encountered last time.
Afterward, I inquired about him. His surname was Yan, and he was quite famous. He had been mingling about in Anle Square his entire life, and many renowned Singers of their time had their portraits done by him.
"Just trying to make a living," I replied calmly.
"Do you know who I am?" asked Master Yan.
"Master Yan, the virtuoso of painting, a guest of honor among the Singers," I responded.
"It seems you still don't know who I am," Master Yan chuckled darkly. "No matter, you will find out soon enough."
With that, he entered Ruyi Residence for his meal in a leisurely manner.
I was completely baffled.
Isn't he just Master Yan? What other special identity could he have?
Seeing the flow of people at Ruyi Residence increasing, I pushed my confusion aside.
Having arranged the table, chairs, and bench neatly, I spread out Little Qian on the table, it was held in place at the corners by the weight of an inkstone, and I sat down behind the table, waiting confidently.
Normally, I would have framed the painting and hung it up to make it more eye-catching.
Unfortunately, I was out of money.
Now was midday, the time when courtesan Singers began to wake, eat, and start their day.
Maidservants and servants trickled out from the various brothels, moving towards rouge shops, cloth stores, and jewelry stores. A number of them diverged into Ruyi Residence.
These people noticed me and the painting on my table as soon as they approached.
The lively three-dimensional technique, as lifelike as a photograph, captivated them instantly.
Before long, a crowd had gathered around my desk.
Among them, the more astute ones had already taken their meal boxes and were running back swiftly.
I looked at the back of a maidservant scurrying away, and my heart bloomed with joy.
It seemed I was about to start doing business.
Not to mention, that maidservant was quite pretty.
The Singer she served couldn't be too far behind in looks.
Not only could I make money, but I could also feast my eyes on beautiful Singers.
"I chose the right path indeed!"
But before the pretty maidservant came back, an old man was the first to knock on my door.
"Steward Li?" I asked with confusion.
"Your painting?" Steward Li was as cold as ever, and his words remained exceptionally concise.
"I painted it," I answered honestly.
"Come with me." He took another glance at the lifelike portrait on the table and said indifferently.
Is this... business coming my way?!
```
Chen Mu was overjoyed and hastily rolled up his painting, carefully storing away his brushes and ink. He shouted to the Ruyi Residence attendant to help move the table and chairs inside, then swiftly followed Butler Li.
He had no idea who he was painting a portrait for.
Could it be that Butler Li has a sweetheart in Anle Square?
No, more likely it was the Wang family's eldest young master who was hiding a beauty here.
...
With painting in tow, Chen Mu left with Xiaoqian, and the onlookers dispersed.
When Master Yan of the Guild of Marvelous Pictures eventually stepped out of Ruyi Residence again, he stood silently before the table.
"Old Yan, the usual rules?" a well-built man appeared behind him.
"Without our Marvelous Painting Guild's approval, this kid dares to sell paintings here; he's asking for trouble," another scrawny man also chuckled and added, "Don't worry, Old Yan, for such a greenhorn, a beating will teach him his place."
Master Yan had muddled through life in Anle Square his whole life.
Starting from a young age, he painted portraits for others and, due to his exceptional Skill, quickly made a name for himself.
The Marvelous Painting Guild valued his talent and, using a variety of means, forced him to join.
Afterward, as his skills grew, he gradually secured his footing within the guild.
Once he reaped enough benefits, he colluded with the Marvelous Painting Guild to monopolize the painting and book business in Anle Square.
Many scholars, who lived by selling paintings, were either forced to join the Guild and work for them or driven away by various schemes.
Master Yan, staring at the long table where the paintings had been displayed, suddenly said after a moment of contemplation, "Find out everything about him, and if he has no significant backing, find an opportunity to break both his hands."
The tall and the short man exchanged glances; this was about crippling that scholar!
"Yes," the two men nodded hurriedly.
Master Yan nodded with satisfaction, thinking of the lifelike portrait and snorted coldly.
The painting was good, but it was too good!
So good that he could not replicate it at all.
Such a person joining the guild would be a threat to him.
Having spent half his life mingling with the guild, enjoying power and prestige, he had no desire to be overthrown in his old age.
"Then I can only cripple you."
...
Chen Mu followed Butler Li briskly.
As they walked, to his surprise, they left Anle Square.
"Not in Anle Square? Could it be the Wang family's eldest son hiding his love, keeping a mistress outside?"
The two boarded a carriage and headed towards the city center along the East Market main street.
Sitting in the carriage, Butler Li was taciturn and rested with closed eyes, Chen Mu did not dare to initiate conversation and could only look out the window at the scenery.
As the carriage moved, the buildings on both sides of the street became orderly. The attire of the passersby also visibly improved.
The ground was paved with blue stone, and the houses transitioned from small homes to large estates with deep courtyards.
About a quarter-hour later, they arrived in front of a red-lacquered gate.
Chen Mu recognized the place; it was the Wang family estate, the owners of the house he rented.
Was a Wang family daughter in need of a portrait?
Perhaps she was at marriageable age, and the family prepared a portrait for matchmaking purposes.
Butler Li was most likely looking for Master Yan.
"Hey, am I stealing that old man's business?" Chen Mu thought gleefully.
He followed Butler Li through a side door.
Along the way, the rockery and water features, pavilions and towers made Chen Mu sigh with admiration; truly befitting a wealthy family.
Then, Butler Li led him into the inner courtyard, where seven or eight maids and servants were waiting in the patio.
Some carried washbasins, others had towels, and some held food containers.
As they entered the room, a strong medicinal scent assaulted their nostrils.
The young lady of the house was ill?
"Young Master, the painter has arrived," Butler Li respectfully said to a middle-aged man in his forties.
"Him?" The middle-aged man looked at Chen Mu with puzzlement.
Butler Li took the painting from Chen Mu's hand, unfolded it halfway, and showed it to the middle-aged man for inspection.
"Not bad. Let's go with him," the middle-aged man's eyes brightened, nodding in approval.
"Come with me," Butler Li beckoned Chen Mu and walked into the inner room.
"This is our Master; Young Master Li requests a portrait of him," Butler Li motioned to the bed and whispered to Chen Mu, "The Master is gravely ill; in case of any mishap, it would be good to leave his likeness for posterity to admire."
Chen Mu stared blankly ahead, where an old man with a pale face and barely perceptible breathing lay unconscious on the bed.
"All the finest brushes and ink have been prepared; you may begin," said Butler Li.
Chen Mu: "..."
This... this is asking me to paint a death portrait!
What happened to the beautiful young lady?
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
34 Power
stone 
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